


Space

by NannaSally



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 17:17:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21581191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NannaSally/pseuds/NannaSally
Summary: why would a Federation Citizen leave the safety of the Domes to go to a colony world?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Space

She looked up from her monitor as I entered the shop with three bags of previously essential possessions hanging from my hands.

“Oh dear, I heard they were redistributing space again. How much did you lose this time?”

“Half the bedroom, the linen closet and a third of the pantry. I guess I will be doing without all this for a time.” I said as I put the assorted goods on the counter. “How much can you give me for this lot?”

She had a look and picked out on or two pieces to investigate further. “This is pretty. Are you sure you want to sell it?”

No, I was not sure but I was fast running out of room for myself let alone any memorabilia no matter what it used to mean to me.

“It’s okay, I took some photos of it. And besides Jon has been gone a long time now. It’s not like he is going to come home and wonder where his music box got to.”

“I guess not. Was it a family heirloom then?”

“Yes, something like that.”

I thought of the time Jon first showed me this treasure of his. We had been sitting in the small living room of his single occupancy unit, having just finished a supper of that week’s ‘Special Offer’ from the replicator – some innocuous hash that managed to taste the same as every other weeks Special Offer. But he had found a bottle of a rather nice  synthowine and besides we had each other’s company to sweeten the meal.

Jon had described seeing it on his mother’s dressing table when he was growing up. It had belonged to her mother before her and who knew how many generations of women of the family before that. This generation there was just Jon – the one child the Federation had licensed her for, so sit was his the day she died. Of course that was back in the day where a bedroom had room for more than just a bed. I hardly remembered what a dressing table looked like.

Living together had entitled us to a bit more elbow room and the box had sat proudly on the shelf in the main room where we kept the few precious items we brought to our home: a red glass globe, a  holoplayer with family photos, those little things that keep memories alive.

Now Jon was gone. Lost to the ongoing expansion of the Federation and all that meant in peacekeeping terms. Conscripted into Space Force – you did not say ‘no’ to that invitation. And we had not been together long enough to apply for a Reproduction Licence so there was no one to pass the box on too.

And the reduction of individual space allocations in the Dome meant  I no longer had room for such sentimental...junk. I had my memories and my pictures and I would have to make do with those.

Let someone else with credit to burn and space to fill have a music box. Anyway it no longer played a tune, hadn’t in as long as I had known it.

I took the money and left. Soon I would have enough saved to leave this wretched Dome and get away to some colony world where there was room for sentiment.


End file.
